


A Day in The Life of the Stark-Strange Household

by zehel_red



Series: The Daily Life in the Stark-Strange Household [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Family, Happy is a closet nerd, Infinity War broke me so I had to write this, M/M, Mention of Death, Mention of the Avengers, Minor Character Death, Oneshot, Peter is adopted by Tony, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slight feels at the end, Stark Strange family, a daily life in the Stark-Strange family, breaks off from Civil War, family fic, lots of sass and good ol' bickering, mentions of adoption, non-timeline complacent, post Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - Freeform, pre Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, probably post-Civil War, references everywhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-02 00:52:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14533134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zehel_red/pseuds/zehel_red
Summary: A collection of how some days go by in the Stark-Strange Household. Boring and the not-so-boring bits included.





	1. Driving Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just a rambling and an attempt to get a glimpse of what the Stark-Strange household looks like during times out of the public eye and out of superhero duties. Feel free to write in comments and suggestions for prompts for this! I'll see what I could come up with it once in a while.

[Stark-Strange Residence. Stark Tower. 06:00, July 2, 20xx]

_"Good morning, New York! It's a sunny day in the entire state today with the temperature reaching up to seventy degrees Fahrenheit in the shade and would reach up to seventy-five in the afternoon!"_

 

"You'd think that humans would be concerned about how hot the world is getting if you listen in on the news every once in a while, but no." A smooth baritone says a matter-of-factly towards his partner busying himself in the kitchen, starting the conversation as always with his opinions on everyday occurences. "Everyone in the council seems to think human beings are ungrateful for the life given to us by our planet. I couldn't really say anything to contradict that."

"Oh, really? What do you say to them then?"

A rustle of the Daily Bugle could be heard, followed by a chuckle. The man owning the smooth voice absent-mindedly scanning the papers he had spread out on the marble counter for any other news about the Avengers... or something more worth-while like a lifestyle column. "I'd always say, _'Spot on.'_ "

A hearty laugh could be heard from the other as he broke an egg by the pan and a soft sizzle could be heard from the kitchen. With a lean and small - if not of average height - frame compared to his taller counterpart, dark neatly cut hair and perfectly trimmed facial hair, contrasted by a messily worn shirt and sweatpants, Tony Stark regarded his boyfriend with a hopeless smirk and a shake of the head.

Seated on the right of the stove by one of the counters in Tony's state-of-the-art kitchen, the doctor stays seated giving his attention to both the papers and the daily news showing on TV. "It's both a good thing and a bad thing that I'm actually free from my duties as Sorcerer Supreme for today. I never thought I'd like to be solving crossword puzzles and listening about "serious" news instead of listening in on alien lifeforms debate for eons about _"world peace"_."

Tony snorted. "This makes my everyday problems with the government sound like a dream job."

"Oh, you bet it is."

Trust Stephen Strange to always have a smart quip on his sleeves this early in the morning.

Reaching over the marble counters, he set the television on mute seeing that the news contain nothing but bank robberies, car chases and school shoot-outs, just an everyday staple with most of which basically roots from laws being neglected by lawmakers too focused on things like "How to get the superhero club in our hands" rather than working together to be a more functional society. It's all just a bunch of mumbo-jumbo political tirade that Tony isn't in the mood on dealing with early in the morning.

With the peace talks with the U.N. going on about the Accords and with Tony being flung onto a set of responsibilities he didn't ask for by being the director of The Avengers, a quiet and relaxing summer morning is something he wished he could have. Sharing a meal with his boyfriend and his son in the New York residence, away from chaos and noise-

"Pops!"

Tony counted down to five under his breath, heaving a sigh when he could hear the incessant pitter patter of his son's shoes on the tiled floor. "Peter, you better stop running in the halls-"

A sharp skidding sound.

"W-whoa!"

Crash!

"I'm okay!" A boyish voice shouted from the other end of the hall. Crash! "I'm really okay!"

At this point Stephen had risen from his seat by the stool adjacent the counter and joined Tony behind it, keeping himself occupied by preparing their mugs of freshly brewed coffee for both of them.

"Trust Peter to wake up the entire house. Good morning, FRIDAY." He whispers in amusement at the sound of the AI's greeting and shaking his head when he saw the teenager feign confidence upon walking back to the kitchen as if the whole display of his childish antics hadn't taken place seconds ago. "Good morning, Peter."

"Heya, Dad." Peter greeted with a shy crooked grin, rubbing his hip and brushing dirt off his shoulder as he proceeded to standing in front of them decked out in a pair of jeans and a light colored shirt with his beaten up backpack slung haphazardly on his shoulder.

He looks like any other teenage boy you'd see around the neighborhood downtown. Ever since Tony had been able to consider him as his son under the eyes of the law, you'd think that Peter Parker would gradually take up a bit after his social standing now - more slick looking clothes and less neighborhood ones -, but the boy's style was something both Tony and Stephen were thankful Peter had been stubborn on keeping. You could say his style gives him a quirky and charming personality you can't quite get enough of.  

"You're up early." Stephen says.

"But, Dad, I'm usually up early. What are you talking about?"

"It's summer and by standards, your 'early' is an hour before noon. Our 'early' is around this time."

Peter laughs at the observation, leaning over the counter and stealing one of Tony's freshly made toast. "I have to meet up with Ned and the others for a bit. Happy will take me, I think. I did tell him."

"Oh, Happy knows and we don't?" Tony asks. "Where are you heading off to this early?"

"We have to meet up for something for the school paper this coming semester. I recently got in." The boy grins before turning to look at the TV and switching channels, the news of him being a member of the school paper  seemingly becoming a bigger deal for his parents than to him.

"Whoa, _wait a second._ " Tony raised a hand, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief, amusement and confusion as he tried to take in the news casually flung at them. " You got into the school paper?"

"Yep!" The boy confirmed, munching on his toast as he swung his chair back to look at his dads. "I'm the school photographer now - well... it's kind of like a side gig until they find someone else more _"fitting"_. One of my friends, MJ, told me about it so I figured why not? Turns out they need a hand and I approached them at the right time, so now I have to come to school once in a while to cover the varsity teams for the summer. I'm still in the Science club, though. So figure I'll probably have to juggle those in the next semester."

Tony at this point looked more concerned for the boy, "By _'once in a while'_ you mean? Is this like an everyday occurence or a once in a blue moon thing?"

"I might come by to school twice a week or whenever I'm called in for it."

"Pete, Happy might not be able to take you to school every 'once in a while'. He's technically Pepper's Head of Security now."

Peter blinked owlishly, having realized he hadn't taken that into consideration. "I could uh... _swing over_ to school?" He asks tentatively. "I'm Spider-Man, right?"

Stephen looks pointedly at his son as he poured coffee in a mug, which Peter had taken notice of and gulped.

Peter knew his parents didn't want him to be using his abilities needlessly if there are better methods at hand. It wasn't because he was being stopped from using them, it was the opposite, actually. But the Avengers had become a household name in people's conversations and a staple in headlines that they think Peter being potentially discovered that Spider-Man is just a teenager attending a public high school in New York could lead to more harm to him than good.

"Skateboarding?"

Tony shakes his head.

"Wear an Iron Man suit?"

Raise of eyebrows with both men shaking their heads.  

 _Okay, that was just a joke._ Peter thought.

" _Oh!_ How about I learn how to drive?"  the teenager chirped, eyes wide with excitement and anticipation clear in his voice. He gave each of his fathers a hopeful look and soon he could see both heroes share apprehensive and agreeing looks towards each other - apprehension and agreement coming from Tony and Stephen, respectively.

The entire kitchen became silent and soon enough the small tapping sound of Tony's fingers hitting the cold surface filled in the room.  

With a thoughtful pout on his lips and a few more tapping on the marble counter, Tony took in a deep breath as he put the nearly forgotten sunny side up on his plate before looking up and saying, "No."

"You could teach me how to! Come on, Pops! It will be like a bonding moment for us." Peter said, leaning over by the counter and placing his hands on it, eager in making him agree.

Tony smiles, reaches a hand out and musses his son's hair. "No. Having you behind the wheel could spell disaster for the both of us. Even with your spider senses tingling." He said as he raised his hands to do the sparkling gesture with his fingers.

"Aw, Pops! I'm turning sixteen this year. I should at least learn how to drive, right?"

"You're surprisingly intent in learning, Petey." Tony says amused, reaching over to his side to pop in another pair of bread to toast as Peter seems to like stealing other people's food rather than making his own sandwhich during a healthy argument.

"That's because I'm already on my way to becoming a legal adult and I can't even drive a car yet."

"Great way to appeal to my emotions, but no."

Peter groans and slides off his chair, "Come on, Pops. I'm Spider-Man. I go to school by day and I fight crime by night. I beat a lot of bad guys even from out of this world, I swing from the tallest skyscrapers of New York, and I can't even drive a car. _What kind of superhero can't drive a car?_ "

"A moot point, but commendable, nonetheless." Stephen agrees, raising his mug in the air for an ackwoledging toast; Also sneaking in to snatch the pair of toast freshly popped out of the toaster, earning a glare from Tony in the process.

"Ask your Dad how to create portals. It's easier."

"He has nets to ease his travels with." Stephen counters, sipping from his cup of coffee.

"Webs, Stephen." Tony corrects.

"Technicalities." Stephen waved off, munching on the crunchy toast at hand.

"But you just said I shouldn't use my _'powers'_ if it's outside of hero work."  Peter argued.

"Oh, please. We both know you tend to break that rule, kid." Tony says, watching his son gawk at the mild and teasing accusation. "Especially if you wake up late. I _know_ because FRIDAY usually sends in reports of you hopping around the house trying to put on your shoes every morning. And for god's sake, can the two of you stop stealing my food? I'm seriously hungry here and you keep taking my toast."

Both men mutter their apologies and share a few amused looks.

With Tony occupied in safe-guarding his toast not too far from the boys, Stephen takes the opportunity to join in on the conversation. "You're quite eager in learning how to drive, Peter. Are you perhaps trying to impress someone?"

"What?!" Peter gawked with eyes wide in shock, surprising his adoptive parents of his sudden reaction. Waving his hands and shaking his head, he adamantly denied the allegation. "N-no, no, _of course not!_ I just really wanted to be able to drive a really, _really_ , cool car!"

Stephen cracked a smile, leaning forward and whispered, having a teasing tone in his voice. "What's her name?"

"W-wha-?"

"Oh, did I assume your potential partner's gender?"

"N-no. Not really."

"So, what's her name?" The doctor asks kindly before taking another sip of his cooling drink, eyes looking at his son expectantly.

"...MJ." The boy confesses meekly, his fingers suddenly finding the abstract patterns on the counter interesting while a tinge of red suddenly started forming all the way to his ears.

The two fathers share a few looks, the both of them not being able to mask the pure adoration and amusement they are feeling for the young man sitting in front of them. Before them was their sixteen year-old son, Peter Benjamin Parker. A superhero and a person of remarkable wit and talent suddenly looking bashful when asked if he was trying to impress a girl.

It took a considerable amount of silence before Tony broke the spell and said, "Alright. I'll let you learn how to drive."

Quickly, Peter looked up at Tony with an unmistakable glint in his eyes.

" _But_ you only get to touch the expensive ones once you get four seals of approval. One from your Dad, from Happy, from Pepper and from me. Then we get you a license."

"Yes!" the teenager jumps up from his seat and pumped his arms in victory. "Of course! That'd be great, Pops!"

Peter was ecstatic, running his fingers through his hair as the news of him finally being able to sit behind the steering wheel finally coming true. He's going to be able to drive a car!

 

 

 

 

 

 

[ Tony Stark's Malibu Mansion, Malibu, California. 08:50, July 28, 20xx]

 

"Peter, you're going to be late for driving lessons!" Tony called out from the mansion's foyer. Pepper's and Happy's voices mixing in with Stephen's in a conversation just by the driveway. "Peter, Happy's already here, so you better get down here, stat!"

"Coming, Pops! Just a minute!" Peter called back from upstairs, the sounds of feet scampering and incomprehensible babbles being heard around the house.

"Sir, please be careful, the floor has just been polished-" the feminine voice of FRIDAY reminded.

"I'm fine, Fri! I just need to find my bag-"

"Sir, it's in the living room."

" _Peter!_ " Tony called once again, getting impatient from all the bickering Peter and FRIDAY are having. Shaking his head, he turned to walk back to the courtyard, looking at the three and noticing their bemused expressions as he got nearer. "What?"  
  
"You're enjoying parenthood." Pepper teases, a smile gracing her beautiful features. The CEO of Stark Industries unmistakably putting on in years, but ageing gracefully like fine wine.

"Well, for one thing, the kid's a headache sometimes, but I won't be adopting him if I'm not. " Tony says, shrugging. He would have answered differently - denying at first before admitting - if his friends had told him those lines months before, but now, he's more or less accustomed to the idea of being a father to Peter that he finds himself actually enjoying the teenager's company and actually treating him like his own kid.

"I'm here- oh. Hi, Aunt Pep! Happy, what's up?" Peter greets, waving at them as he jogged towards Stephen and Tony's side.

Pepper smiled widely at seeing the ecstatic teenager, her face glowing with happiness at seeing her nephew. "Good morning, Peter! I heard you're having your first driving lesson today."

"Yeah!" Peter nodded, almost hopping on his toes with his excitement.

"Well, good luck with that and _Tony-_ " Pepper giggled at seeing the boy's enthusiasm before turning to look at his ex-boyfriend and best friend, "Please remember that you're needed in that meeting later in the afternoon. You already played hooky on the board one time and we really need that agreement to start moving. Otherwise we'll be way behind schedule."

"Can't I just be there via hologram? It's the new age of technology."

Pepper sighs and looked at the eccentric man with a bored expression on her face. " _No_ , Tony. We need you there. _In person._ Be there at two o'clock. Alright?"

With that, Pepper went in the car and consequently rolled the window down. "Have fun on your lessons, Petey. I'll see you in New York. Happy, be a bit less strict with Peter, please? He's not as stubborn as Tony and Stephen."

"Of course!" Happy said before heading over to the driver's side of the car, giving the directions to him.

The four men were left by the driveway waving their goodbyes to her and once the black Mercedes had turned the corner and out of their sights, Peter turned to look at his parents and asked, "So, what car will I be learning to drive? Is it the _Audi_? The _Lambhorgini_?"  

"Ah, right!" Tony said, a big smile creeping on his face as he gave Happy a nod. "Hap?"

"Say no more, sir! This car is perfect for teaching you to be a responsible driver, Peter." The man had beamed with pride, chest puffing out as he stood straighter. "This has been a car that had been used by our family for generations and made me be a reliable driver today."

Piqued, Peter kept his doe-eyed gaze at Happy, his face almost splitting with the huge excited grin he had going on. He was so consumed with his excitement that he didn't notice the small giggles Tony was having and a snort Stephen gave.

"Peter, meet ol' Betsy." Happy said with a pride of a father as he stopped in front of a vintage jalopy parked just a few feet further away from where they are standing. The newly waxed car glinting bright red with the retractable roof pulled back to reveal its white leather interior. "She'll be your companion in your journey to be a good and dependable driver!"

"What?!" Peter gawked, his face quickly contorting to surprise as he groaned and let his bag drop on the ground as he faced his parents. "Oh man, you've got to be kidding me, Pops!"

At this point, Tony and Stephen broke out laughing at their son's immediate and hilarious reaction.

"It's a suped up vintage car, Pete. You might even enjoy driving it." Tony said, trying his best to compose himself from the fit of laughter he's having.

Peter sighed and took in a deep breath. "I really hope so, Pops."

The teenager picked up his bag again and trudged to Happy's side, his grumbling being slowly replaced by newfound excitement and wonder when Tony's trusted head of security and friend had started giving him a rundown on the jalopy.

Soon after, Tony and Stephen were left standing in front of the mansion's driveway, gazing at the gates where their son and their friend had slowly, but surely driven off to - not to mention the times they had to watch the car restart and listen in on Happy instructing Peter alongside it- long ago.

"So, _'Ol' Betsy'_ ?" Stephen started, taking a sip of the tea he had brought with him outside. The contents of the cup having long cooled down and forgotten due to the events that transpired moments ago.

Tony sighed and smiled. "Yeah, Hap is a big _Archie_ fan. Apparently gave the car that name and it just stuck there."

Stephen chuckled and shook his head, inching his slightly trembling hand close to Tony's and intertwining fingers with the mechanic. "The man's got fine taste. I'd _love_ to take that car for a spin around some time." He whispered as he turned to look at his boyfriend.

" A trip out would be nice. We could just park and relax somewhere in the hills. Do you want that? "

"Yeah, I'd love that."

"It's a date, then." Tony smiled, squeezing the doctor's scarred hand for assurance as he and Stephen made their way back into the residence.

"Here's to hoping Peter doesn't total the car during the lessons."

"Now it's making me think whether or not I should have let Peter take the Lamborghini instead."

The sound of Stephen's genuine laughter could be heard ringing in the house just as when Tony had closed the door. The mechanic was left standing by the doorway, letting himself enjoy hearing his boyfriend's mirth replay in his mind for a few more times.

A few months ago, cries of anguish and war sounds was all he heard around the house, the image of his mansion crumbling into dust replaying in his mind and nightmares constantly haunting him in his sleep. Who would have thought that months later, he would be back in this same place, but be surrounded by the people he loves and cherish. The nightmares and anxiety were still there, but Stephen and Peter had made it more bearable to deal with.

"Anthony, do you want to have lunch here or would you just rather we eat elsewhere?" Stephen called out, expecting that his boyfriend had probably resigned to his office downstairs and being surprised to see the smaller man standing by the doorway instead. "What's wrong?", He blinked, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at his partner.

Tony looked up at Stephen and just took the view in. Stephen's tall and lean frame out of its usual sorcerer's garb and in a sleek set of slacks and and a button-up shirt being illuminated by the gentle summer light filtering in from the windows, his well-kept salt and pepper hair in a need for a scheduled trim and his sea-blue eyes holding his brown ones in a gentle gaze.  The man who made all this he's having right now be possible and more meaningful for him.

_Yeah, everything changed for the better._

"Nah, nothing. Just thinking of something." He said, walking towards his partner, tipping on his toes to give the doctor a quick peck on the cheek.

"Let's just cook lunch. Peter would probably be starving when he gets back."

 


	2. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony and Stephen finally sits down to try and talk about how they would face the demons that come visiting them once in a while. Not to mention deal with questions that have been left unanswered between them for too long.
> 
> The story takes place months before the chapter "Driving Lessons".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating bumped up from G to M for mentions of death, blood, sex and other topics that might not be fit for younger audiences.

Tony tosses and turns in his king-sized bed, his breathing coming in labored and his face contorting in discomfort as his body started shedding cold sweat.

He raised his gauntlet-clad hands. It was crudely made, void of the hot red and golden ochre his eyes have been accustomed to. By the looks of the suit of armor he was in - clunky, rough around the edges and unevenly hammered - he knew this armor was made less for sustainability, but more out of necessity.

He forced himself to breathe in. The air was damp and heavy. The metallic smell of iron and rock mixing in heavily with the smell of water left stagnant for too long. He turned to look around, movement heavy and restrained regardless of the armor he's in. He was strapped down. He knows.

He's back from where he started. Back from when the Merchant of Death had ended and when Iron Man had begun. He's back in Afghanistan.

He knows how this will end.

_"We won't make it."_

Tony raised his head to where he heard the usually meek scientist speak. His mentor and unlikely friend, Ho Yinsen.

_"I'll buy us some time."_

Tony wanted to tell him to stop. To stay and leave things up to him, but nothing. Not even a croak could make it past his chapped lips. His voice was as caged as he had felt in the cold, hard suit.

Everything became a blur to him. The events that transpired in the same cold caverns he was held prisoner in replaying its bloody run. Screams, bullets,  fire and explosions raging in his ears like a morbid symphony horribly amplified by the shallow echoes of his suit.

_Just a few more steps and he's out._ Free from the darkness he had been familiar with for three months. If things go on the same way as he remembers, he'll see his dear friend - sprawled on the ground bloodied, weak and hopelessly gasping for his last breath.

It was supposed to be that way, wasn't it? But why does he see himself in that position instead? Helpless, bleeding, motionless... _powerless._

_"It was your fault."_

He could see Yensid's face hovering above him. Healthy, void of wounds and blood and an uncharacteristic, but equally unnerving smile on his face.

_"If you didn't make those weapons, my family would still be alive. Many civilians unharmed and living happily. But what did you do, Tony Stark?_ Greed. Power. Unaccountability. _You never knew responsibility until death came knocking at your doorstep."_

Tony could feel fear crawl in his veins, every seething word hissed at him piercing through the core of his being. Like the creeping shards he had long removed from his body since.

_"N-no."_ , he weakly muttered.

_"It was your fault!"_ The distorted voice of Yinsen accuses, spite and venom laid heavy in his voice.

_"N-no. I'm sorry."_

_"You should have died in this cave instead of me. I've done things far more better than you."_

He could feel the ground give in from underneath as hands shot out and began to creep around him. Grasping.

Clawing.

Pinning.

Preventing him from getting up.

He couldn't breathe. He could feel countless hands tighten around him. Sullied hands of people unknown to him that have died because of his irresponsibility. The weight of his arc reactor becoming heavier and colder, reminding him of the punishment of his deeds. This was his curse.

_"Tony."_

He couldn't hear properly. Consciousness was rapidly evading him, the darkness consuming him. Sounds became muffled like words spoken underwater. _Tony._ He heard it again like a mantra. The name is familiar, but it felt distant all the same.

_That's him, isn't it?_

The voice kept ringing, this time louder. Reverberating. Calling him. It was deep and distinct. It felt warm and it rang a familiar note within him.

"Anthony!"

Tony started with a loud gasp, eyes shooting wide in panic and searching frantically around the room. Blindly, he grabbed the hands that held him grounded, clawing and grasping against trembling and scarred hands.

"Anthony." The voice called out again, unwavering, warm and soothing, but laced with alarm nonetheless. His body hovering inches away from him, recoiling at the panic attack the mechanic was having, attempting to pacify him with shushes and coos. "Anthony, _it's me._ Stephen."

Tony blinked, shutting his eyes closed and blinking rapidly, desperately searching. His breath coming in shallow and rapid. He was battling to stay awake, consciousness having a tug-of-war to get himself out of the hell he was in. He feels warmth and coldness spread on his body at the same time. He was trembling hard.

"Come back to me, Tony." Stephen whispers, leaning his forehead against Tony's, his thumbs shakily moving in slow circles on the mechanic's nape as he waited for him to float back down to consciousness. "It's just a dream. You're safe."

Slowly, Tony relaxed under the doctor's touches, willing himself to ease the tension in his rigid body and focused solely on Stephen's voice and touches. It was far from soothing - the doctor's voice raspy and hoarse from sleep and his touches frantic and shaky -, but the gesture had been more of familiarity. The two spent moments in each other's embrace, exchanging soft murmurs of assurance and comfort before Stephen deemed it best to settle back down in bed.

Tony tells Stephen of his nightmare, keeping the details short, but direct to the point. The sorcerer understood just with the mention of Afghanistan and saw it fit to pull Tony closer to him while the other relays the dream to him.

Minutes later, the mechanic finds himself wrapped in a coccoon of warmth which the taller man had given him. Tony could tell Stephen had fallen back to sleep with how his breathing had become even, the rise and fall of the sorcerer's bare chest becoming a comforting lull for him.

With his limbs tangled with Stephen's own naked form, Tony let himself get lost in his thoughts, occassionally feeling the younger man pull up closer to him on his sleep and unconsciously nuzzle into him.

He and Stephen had gotten back in touch a few months ago after the fall out of the Avengers. Has it been half a year already? Seven? Eight? He doesn't know. He doesn't keep track. More like he didn't keep track. He had been too lost in dwelling on the pain, grief and heartache the ordeal had left him.

All he knows is that this relationship - or whatever you might have to call it - had started when Stephen had casually walked in on his office wearing his Sorcerer Supreme tunic like some Buddhist Superman and told him about the existence of magic and multiverses as if no years had passed since their memorable meeting. Tony had little to no choice but to hear him out considering that he had to nearly be strapped on bed to keep him from moving with the extent of the injuries he had gotten after a beating from Rogers and Barnes.

Casual business appointments turned to a few occassional risque rendezvous that either ends up with both of them talking about science and sorcery while being pleasantly buzzed with alcohol or practically foregoing the talk and tumbling in bed naked, or both.

What had started with hot, steamy makeout sessions and rowdy sex had become cuddles and sweet talking shared in Tony's living room couch. It was supposed to be a casual "fuck buddy" sort of set-up. Stress relief. Casual fling. Whatever people would want to label it as. But Tony remembers how the tide had changed when they first witnessed how the both of them would be fighting their demons in their sleep.

Talking about the encounters with beings far from their reach was easy. It was like they're talking about badly made Hollywood B-list movies, but truly opening up about their insecurities, their fears has been something they were both reluctant in sharing. It was there - the occassional serious talks -, but it was more a topic told in passing. Not exactly something you would spend talking about while wrestling one another in bed, but it was there.

It was a cycle, they knew it and both of them seemed to be taking an active role in this dynamic they quickly found themselves in.

Within those few months that the change took place, Tony slowly got used to the company the snarky doctor gives him. Finding himself missing the banters they often have on the smallest and minute details when either one of them are away. Calls from him became a weird habit he had been looking forward to and moments of him coming home to his house in New York with the sorcerer sipping tea by the living room or meditating in the middle of it would be a frequent sight to see. Meals had been shared, most of the time having their schedules aligned as much as they could. Sharing a bed even outside of sex had been a near daily occurence as well.

Peter seemed to notice, too, how Stephen would always come up to their conversations and plans. The two boys seem to get along nicely, too, much to Tony's surprise. Science and curiosity binding them together like two children left in a sandbox to explore all the possibilies the quirky matter had to offer. Tony doesn't really mind, Stephen told him that he likes the boy's company and how _"lived in"_ his house felt compared to his apartment somewhere in the city. The Sanctum was far from being praised, too.

_"Wong is a great companion. He just becomes a bit of a stick in the mud when my jokes go over his head sometimes."_

Tony let a small smile creep on his face upon remembering Stephen's words, but a creeping feeling that this relationship is fleeting and a temporary relief to both of them keeps coming back to tug at him. It wasn't much of a hindrance that keeps him from being functional, but it was annoying.

He's happy right now, no doubt about that. He has Peter, Pepper, Happy and a few friends from the Avengers he knows he could rely on, but ever since the events in Siberia and how he had gotten more than his bones crushed, he learned how to take things by face value. He thought he could try to take his relationships in a deeper level, but with the heartache Rogers had given him, he was probably better off shutting out everyone else again.

But a small part of him knows he wants whatever he shares with Stephen to be something more.

What are they to each other right now?

What's going on?

With these thoughts running in his mind, he knows he won't be able to have a good night's sleep. Not because of the nightmares he's afraid to face - He's been wrestling with those like a sparring partner who comes by once in a while - but because he's afraid that he'll dream of the man with the deepest sea-green eyes holding him close right now.

_But, ah, whatever._

It's  4 A.M. and his body is blissfully buzzing and aching from their activities a while back.

He lets his eyes close, senses be filled with nothing but the the sorcerer and reluctantly be lulled back into a dreamless sleep with Stephen's scarred hand resting harmlessly against his arc reactor.

 

 

~~~ 

 

 

"So, Pops, I was thinking."

Peter started, words a bit garbled as he munched on an apple by the living room, making himself comfortable with legs folded on the leather couch as he pressed on his XBox controller like a maniac. "If you and Doctor Strange are going to get married, would I have to change my name to Stark or Strange? I mean I don't mind if it's Stark-Strange. I might need to work on my signature, you know?"

Tony found himself stopping from his taskof popping off a glass of occassional scotch. He would usually forego the glass and head straight for drinking the whole bottle, but ever since the doctor came into his life, he found less and less joy in drinking. It was probably a good change in lifestyle, but it was a welcome luxury he gets to do once in a while.

_Fuck it._ He sighs, pouring a little more scotch in the glass than he had wanted to.

"We're not even dating, Pete."

_"Oh."_ Peter mouthed towards the television. "I-I mean... with Doctor Strange always coming by and dropping me off to school sometimes, I thought you two might be dating."

Tony blinked at the revelation his son told him. Stephen had been dropping him off to school? He finds himself being amused at the little detail his blabber-mouth of a son spilled.

The teenager soon felt the left side of the couch dip when his adoptive father sat down beside him, pausing the game and letting his dad join in when he saw the older Stark reach in on the tabletop and retrieve the red controller laid on top of it.

"We're just... friends, kid." Tony said with resignation thick in his voice, jostling with the controller in his hand. "It's a _bit_ complicated. You won't understand."

At this point, Peter turns to look at him, completely forgetting the game he was playing for hours to have a sincere talk with his dad. "Pops, I'm fifteen. I'm not a kid." He begins, "And besides, _no friends_ would go out on fancy dinners to five-star hotels alone, be in phone calls early in the morning and late at night and sleep on the same bed... _without clothes on!_ I know because it gets my _Spidey senses_ tingling."  

Tony gawked at his son by how he had enumerated the things Stephen and him had been doing for months, insinuating that whatever they have is something that's beyond the realms of friendship and more into the territory of romance. He's not one to deny it, he knows there's something more to it than innocent friendship, but to hear from his _own son_ that there's something more to it than just the occassional sex?

"I'm telling you. It's much more complicated that that, Peter. With or without the help of your Spidey senses a-tingling."

"Pops, I love you. A lot." Peter says, "But sometimes I wonder if you're as intelligent in the relationship department as you are with technology as you claim it to be. You're smiling a lot more these days whenever Doctor Strange is around and I can tell you're happy. I mean, _not_ entirely happy, but you look a lot better now than you did before this."

"What are you talking about? _I'm happy._ I have you. I have Pepper, Happy, the Avengers-"

The teenager rolled his eyes and smiled at him, glad to be considered his father's source of happiness. "Pops, come on. You know what I'm talking about. Heck, even Ned said you look less crappy than before."

"Okay, first off, I'm offended how your friend had to have a say on how I look. Second, I'm concerned that you do know what you're talking about. For God's sake, Pete, you're what? You just turned fifteen. You shouldn't even be knowing these things yet."

"Generation gap."

Tony snorts and turns to look at his son. Fine, he'll have this talk with him. He already saw it coming. "Do you really think that I might be "in love" with the guy?"

It was Peter's turn to gawk at him. "Pops, I'm a kid. I don't exactly know how it feels to be _"in love"_ yet. At least with how you _"adults"_ do it."

"Then I don't see why and how you could have this talk with me right now and lecturing me on my relationships." Tony shrugs and chuckles when Peter hit him on the shoulder. "You keep going on and on about how friends won't do this and that like you had been in the love department way longer than I did and now you're using the _"I'm a kid"_ card to get out of this situation."

"That's because those are things I see from Aunt May, okay?" Peter said, rocking on his seat and plopping back on the backrest, "Sometimes she'll have a few guys over. Most of them are pretty so-so; Not really my type for her, but some of them seem to have some _"spark"_ in them.", he laughs.

" _Spark._ When have I last heard of that? Ah, right. In the 90s. Are you sure you were born in the correct era? You're not some future Peter Parker who travelled back in time to set things straight?" Tony quips.

The teenager groans and smiles. "Come on. I'm being serious here." 

"Yeah, okay. I know. No more jokes."

The two men look at each other for a while, rain starting to drip against the glass window and the soft pitter-patter filling in for a calming ambient sound and the New York city skyline being blanketed by an overcast and coloring the city with dull gray. It was September anyway. The hurricane season. Even evil-doers would bunker in on the cozy confines of their hideouts.

 "Pop, do you like Doctor Strange?"

The question rung a familiar sound to him. It was something that he had been keeping himself from thinking over the past few weeks ever since his recent nightmare about Afghanistan, but was brought back to attention by the earnest curiosity of the teenager seated beside him. And it was something that kept Tony awake and seated on the couch even hours after Peter had turned in for the night.

 The morning after that bout with his demons had been easier for him to deal with. Stephen had been there to hold him grounded afterall, but after that as if some cruel joke _"destiny"_ had pulled on them, the sorcerer had to be called in a council meeting somewhere in the cosmos.

_"Time is relative. What may seem like hours for me in the cosmos would probably be a day or weeks for you here. But I'll be back. Don't do anything stupid, Anthony."_

Tony watched Stephen's tall and lean frame leave through a portal and after that he was gone for a few days. No news, no messages, no instant multidimensional courier passing by to leave a telegram signed _SS_. Three days, to be exact, until Stephen got back from the council, but he had to leave shortly even after arriving to head over to Kamar-Taj.

Tony was not without a busy schedule, too. Most days he would be hopping from one place to another, from the New Avengers Headquarters, to the U.S. Senate in Washington and to the U.N. headquarters in Geneva leaving Peter alone in the New York residence with Pepper, Vision and FRIDAY to keep him company. Most nights he would be confining himself in his shop, tinkering with new technology, widening his artillery of Mark suits and coming up with a few more advancements for Rhodey's exoskeleton - some of those nights spent doing some side superhero work with the occassional runts.

He keeps himself distracted just to keep himself from thinking about the question his son had asked him. Little did he realize that it's that same doubts and never-ending cycle of him questioning what the doctor meant to him to become some sort of demon he would have to face.

 

 

~~~

 

  

It was a few weeks later from Stephen's departure that Tony finds the sorcerer punching in the security code and seeing him stride over with levitating cups of coffee (and tea for the sorcerer) in tow. He shook his head at the casual display of arrogance from the taller man.

"I just got here a few minutes ago and I thought I would be seeing you in your office." Stephen started as he made his way to the hunched form of Tony by the crafting table.

"Well, you knew where to find me, right?", the mechanic answered, stopping from his souldering and raising his polarized crafting goggles from his face to reveal his deep brown eyes. If he had been a little more rested and void of worries, Tony would have had a bit more of an instant reaction when he felt the bristle of Stephen's goatee against his skin when the doctor had casually leaned in to give him a chaste peck on the cheek.

It took him a second to register the gesture, but he decided he liked it all the same. "How's teaching your minions been?"

"Students." Stephen corrected, setting the mugs in front of them and reaching over by his side to drag a stool to sit on. "They've been doing well. Wong and a few other masters had been a great helping hand in rebuilding Kamar-Taj. I've not handled the students myself since Wong says I'm barely even a master yet and I have a lot to learn, but I pitched in a few other practices here and there. Of course without approval from Wong... but who are the students to refuse an additional bit of knowledge once in a while."

Tony smiled as he listened on, but found himself slowly pulling away from Stephen's narrative to busying himself in fixing one tiny detail on an exoskeletal glove he had been hell-bent on doing since last week. It wasn't until he heard Stephen speak up again that he raised his head to look at his... partner. "Sorry, what?"

"I was asking what you have been doing these past few weeks." Stephen repeated, trying his best to decypher the floating computer generated diagrams in front of him and around Tony.

"Just the usual. Cleaning up the mess Rogers and his party left for me to pick up, being a single father -which mind you, I like being a lot -, but it could be a handful sometimes when I have to watch my ass and appear to "kiss" other people's asses at the same time just to set things straight with the government." Tony straightened up, hands fretfully tapping by the metal table, eyes scanning the gleaming skeleton of a glove in front of him before letting out a soft sigh. "...and I've been working on something for you."

Stephen blinked, unconsciously straightening up at the mention of having something made for him. Following Tony's gaze, curiosity had won over him when he saw the mechanic wordlessly slide a flimsy looking object in front of him. If he was to describe it in ways he would understand, it would look like a robotic amalgamation of skeletal models and complex synapse maps he often sees in medical books. Not daring to let his trembling hands anywhere near it in fear of breaking it, he asks. "What is this?"

"It's a glove. Kind of like a camera stabilizer that keep things steady as it moves."

"It looks... flimsy." Stephen said, gathering the courage to poke and see the material shift and retract before forming its original shape. "Like jell-o."

"I designed it so it wouldn't feel like you'll be wearing something that looks like a Mark suit. It's for everyday use, not for combat, so if anything it should feel like you're wearing surgical gloves." Tony said, casually pushing a diagram in front of Stephen to show the basic functions of the glove.

"I don't have any profound knowledge about the human body and the specifics of neuroscience like you, but I figured I could do something to help your shaking hands a bit." Tony continued, asking for Stephen to try the glove with his right hand which the other man had willingly albeit hesitantly did.

"Anthony-"

"It's the least I could think of doing. It's not fool-proof and the answer to the nerve damage, but after seeing Rhodey suffer through paralysis after everything that happened, I want to explore into this a lot more than before."

_"Oh."_

Stephen took this time to look at Tony up close. The man had a few more gray hairs peppering his close cut hair, a few more lines adding to his face and dark bags forming underneath his coffee brown eyes making him look years beyond his age.

He wanted to ask so many things at once to the older man, but he didn't know where to start. Things like _Had you been well?  -_ which is admittedly a stupid question to start with. With how restless and stressed the man looked, it was an obvious answer that he hadn't been _well_. _Have you been thinking of me? How many days has it been? Have you missed me? What are we?_ Those thoughts had been plaguing him for days and sometimes he would find himself unable to concentrate on anything but the man in front of him.

The days he had spent away from the philantrophist had been both a blessing and a curse for him. The separation since their complicated set-up started had given him the opportunity to sort out how he had been feeling for the other, gave him space to breathe, but at the same time the distance they had unintentionally put themselves into had made him miss both Tony and Peter so much. He had grown used to be around them, being witness to the unique bond the two men had and subsequently finding himself in the fray the moment he had formed an alliance with the group of enhanced individuals.

It was silly in a cosmic scale to be this smitten over a person he had once met over a work-related event years ago. Even sillier than his plan of defeating Dormammu back then. If given the chance, he would rather be stuck in a time loop than have to voice out his accumulating feelings for the Man of Iron.  

For once, the great Stephen Strange was at a loss and he found himself startling when Tony suddenly speaks up.

"The kid asked me a few days ago that if ever we do get married, what would his last name be?", The mechanic casually threw the question out in the open, reaching over for the screwdriver lying on his right-hand side and making some minor adjustments to the fit.

Stephen could feel the flimsy translucent material cling to his hand a little more. Distracted by the feel of Tony's calloused hands holding his, he swallowed lightly. "Wouldn't it be Strange?"

Tony snorts at the double entendre and settles on letting the joke fly over his head this time. "Nah, I figured it would have to be Stark. He's _my_ adopted son, after all."

"I beg to differ. Stark gives off a rather intimidating feeling, don't you think?" Stephen starts, flexing and unflexing his hand upon instruction as he spoke and examining the fit of the nanotechnology wrapping around his scarred hand. "I don't think it would fit his stature and personality. He's definitely a Strange if he had been born into my side of the family."

"What's wrong with Stark and why is it intimidating? Move your hand. Let me see if it holds."

Stephen leaned back and took the opportunity to move his hand about as how he would when he talks. "All the fame, the money..." he then looks at Tony and gave a gesture to him as a whole, "The whole flair."

It was Tony's turn to raise his brows at the doctor, highly amused and his voice challenging. "You do know you did describe yourself, too, Strange." He said, wiping some grease off of the screwdriver before exchanging it to a smaller and finer one. "So I do have a little flair. It's not intimidating."

"If you call having to organize a press conference to tell the world that you're Iron Man, sure. You have little flair. The only flair I have is my photographic memory, my MD and PhD and my clean track record as a neurosurgeon. Oh... not to mention me being the Sorcerer Supreme among others."

"What's wrong with this, then?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I find your over-the-top confidence as sexy and alluring. I assure you that. But for Peter? " Stephen shakes his head at the thought. "I would rather have him wearing sleek suits and driving fast cars like in a Bond movie than have him sport "emo" hair and probably dancing around the street like a lunatic."

Tony shook his head at the ridiculousness the topic had taken a turn to and smiled. "I don't even see why we have to talk about this. It's not as if we are what the kid is saying. For god's sake, Peter said _"Friends don't have intimate dinners in five-star hotels, Pops"._ "

"Friends also don't have _nightly_ rendezvous, Anthony."

Tony pursed his lips and pointed the screwdriver at him. "That's not the point, but okay, I'll accept that."

Tony found himself chuckling with the doctor, eyeing the taller man casually throwing him a cocky grin before taking the other's hand back on the table and correcting some mistakes he had seen during the fit. Silence fills in the room, the chuckles being slowly replaced by the tinkering sounds of the mechanic afterwards.

They were both dancing around the problem, Tony knows it. Every day he could tell that there's a giant elephant around the room and both of them are stubborn enough refuse to address it. Opting to ignore it or swerve away as much as they could.

"Strange," he starts, setting the tool down the table and straightening up. _He's tired of running in circles._ "What _exactly_ are we doing?"

For people who holds a lot of degrees, they're both being pretty stupid with this. Tony has a lot of things to deal with, demons far greater to deal with than this fear of rejection he has going on. He did not want this doubt to be another.

" _This_ ... this set-up we have going on. What is _this_?", he gestured to the space between them.

Tony knows he feels something for the sorcerer. It might not be the whole "love" yet going on, but he knows that he definitely wants to be more than being casual sex buddies with him, either. A person to share an intimate connection with. They both know of the demons that plague them from time to time. They're both stubborn, egotistic and self-centered, but they know they're not without vulnerabilities.

Stephen looked at him for a while, both of them unmoving from their position as they found themselves locked in each other's gazes, looking for answers they've both been searching for.

The silence stretched for an undefined time and it was Tony who broke the contact first and settled to finishing the calibration. He was an idiot to think Stephen would be answering the question.

"Forget it. Don't answer that. It's not important."

"What do you want this to be?" Stephen muttered under his breath, gaze trained on the way the mechanic's deft hands work against his own.

"What can you see in the future?"

" I can't exactly see the future, but I see possibilities."

Tony nodded, watching as Stephen moved his hand once more, monitoring the statistics by the glowing screen in front of him. The translucent material shifting and glistening against the light like a surgical glove.

"But I don't need to see the future to know that I want this to be a reality where you and I would be happy. Together." Stephen said, eyes soft as he let his gaze slip from the nostalgia he had felt upon wearing the glove and to the unpredictable future the piercing brown eyes held in front of him.

Tony felt his heart jump at the words spoken by the sorcerer. His blood tingling and coming alive at the confession. He lifted his head to look at the man now standing in front of him, the metal feet of the chair the younger had been sitting on scraping as it was pushed back slightly by the movement.  Tony could feel the thin and cold material of the glove slide against his palm, long and slender fingers encasing his own and it was this time that he wished that Stephen wasn't wearing something he had made.

"You and I have..." Tony whispered shakily, laying out his apprehensions before it's too late.  "You and I have a lot of demons to face, Strange. I have problems, and you do, too. A lot of responsibilities to take care of. And this will be a life far from peaceful and quiet. Would you be able to handle that? "

"Funny thing about demons," Strange said, his eyes never leaving Tony's.

Stephen's hand was void of the tremors that had accompanied his hands ever since the fateful accident, and for once despite him getting a taste of the cure he had been looking for for a long time, he found the shaking as a source of comfort taken away from him. He's alive. He's still here. Because of everything that happened, it led him back to Tony.

Realizing it, Stephen slowly moved to peel off the glove and settled his scarred hand back on top of Tony's.

"We never lose them. We just learn how to live above them... and if we do have to face them." Stephen whispers. "I choose to face them with you."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support this fic had been getting for the past few days! I'm honestly surprised that a lot of people had given their time and effort to pick up on this and leave a kudos and a comment afterwards. This gives me so much nspiration to keep writing and be a better writer. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter, because I had so much fun exploring the depths I could go to with these interesting set of characters I had the chance to write for. I'll try to keep up with updates regularly. 
> 
> If you have any suggestions please don't hesitate to address them in the comment section below!  
> Thank you very much!


	3. D-Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter and Stephen's relationship had started off with a talk over food. In other words, a chapter about how some things had been on Stephen's side of the story. Peter might or might not have proven himself to be a competent wingman for his parents.

"Pops, I'm home-!" Peter calls out from the lobby of the Stark tower, alighting the elevator and greeting back FRIDAY as _she_ practically took off his bag for him. The teenager flinched at the sudden appearance of a clamp-like machine from the ceiling to peel off the boy's rain-damp jacket and hand him a towel to dry off to.

Even after months of living with Tony, he would never get used to the amount of Artificial Intelligence his father would always come up with to man the house. One day he would be tinkering about on the security system causing them to set off an alarm to the NYPD and FBI, the next he would have mechanical rings appearing from the floor to serve as butlers and maids of sorts. Not that he minds, but it just takes a bit of getting used to.

The teen made his way to the kitchen, the little superhero work he did a while back made him lose a lot more than that deli sandwich he ate on the way home. The goons were a bit too shrewd for him that the usual ten minutes of exercise for him became twenty. Not to mention the trash bin he put his bag in was picked up by waste management. _His science project was in there, okay?_  He really ought to find a better hiding spot for his things.

"Pops-" Peter called out again, only to be greeted by the tall and lean figure of Stephen Strange working on brewing some tea by the counter. "Oh, hey, Doctor Strange. I didn't think you'd be here." , he greeted hesitantly.

It's been two months since the doctor had started to frequent the residence, it started with a few hours of visit to occassional overnights to unprompted stays in the house.

 _Again,_ not that Peter minds.

He was meaning to ask his dad what the real deal was with him and the doctor, but seeing as how they both seem to spend time with each other in and out of the Avengers, he figured it must be something Tony will tell him once the time comes. He doesn't even think his dad knows that what they have going on is something to be concerned with.

For now he just watches what he says. He's not wary of the doctor, but he's not overly fond of him, too. He could tell the man is shrouded in mysteries regardless of his title as the Master of the Mystic Arts, but Stephen has shown enough concern for him and Tony in some cases and offered to extend a hand with the teenager at times he had been having trouble balancing schoolwork, superhero stuff and living a life as a teenager.

"Anthony had to leave a few minutes ago and left me to wait for you here. You're home a bit later than usual. Did you have trouble in school?" Stephen asked, taking his seat by the stool at the far side of the kitchen. "Tea?", he asked.

"Oh, no thanks, Doctor Strange. I have some "tea" of my own." Peter said, digging through the contents of the fridge and coming to join the older man by the counter-cum-table and dumping every dessert imaginable from tarts to candy bars and to keep it a bit on the healthy side, a piece of leftover granola bar. "Want some Coke?" the teenager said, flipping a can of the carbonated drink on the cold marble counter.

Stephen looked incredulous at the amount of food piled up in front of him, only to look even more amazed when Peter pulled out a foot long sub. "I'm no nutritionist, but the amount of calories you'll be getting from that much food could kill a grown man, Peter." he says as he takes a sip of the relaxing drink. "And I'm more of a Pepsi kind of guy."

"I'm a growing kid and I think the number of times I had to do Acrobatics kind of makes the Olympics a bit of an easier thing to do."

Stephen gives out a small chuckle. "Interesting. Does your father know you eat that much?"

" _Mmhmm._ " Peter nods, munching on the roast beef sandwich after he had poured some hefty amount of ketchup and mustard on it, causing the doctor to look uncomfortable as his stomach had done some flips in disagreement. "I mean, he doesn't exactly approve of my diet since he says I should store more protein than fat, but my metabolism is really active I have to eat more carbs than any other adult should have."

"Sometimes, he'll be groaning because he says it feels like he's feeding a whole basketball league than just a team." Peter added, quickly finishing the sandwich and proceeding to drinking the whole can of soda before deciding to open up a bar of Twinkies.

"Sir, it really is true that you eat too much sweets." FRIDAY chimed in. "Mister Stark has said even with your metabolism you're taking in about a hundred percent more calories than you should."

"You're going to be ruining your appetite before dinner, too, so I think you should cut off on the snacking." Stephen reminded, making the teenager groan and try to sneak in a few more bars before the doctor had his magic sweep away the food and return them to the fridge.

"Aaw, but I'm _really_ hungry, Doctor Strange." Peter whined, slumping when he had to fight with one of FRIDAY's  newly built mechanical arms just to get a hold of the sought after candy bar.

"You'll get to eat a proper meal at dinner. Besides, you hadn't really answered my question of why you had arrived home late. Consider this as an extended question from your father."

Peter pouted when the A.I. had succeeded in prying away the unopened sweet, submitting himself in the doctor's inquiry. "Well..."

Peter hadn't meant to sound hesitant and closed off at the inquiry, but the sorcerer seemed to have picked up on the discomfort.

"You don't need to answer." Stephen quickly said, busying himself with today's crossword puzzle, the soft fizzle of the familiar orange glow of spells etching around the doctor's hand to keep his hand steady enough for writing.

Peter observed Stephen for a while. He could tell the older man in front of him has been trying to not seem intruding upon his and Tony's family life, Stephen probably thinks that he really shouldn't concern himself given the vagueness of the nature of Tony and Stephen's relationship - or as the kids of the Avengers say _"Strony"_ or _"IronStrange"_. It was what the kids call a _"ship"_ name. -, but he doesn't need his Spidey senses to know that the relationship wasn't some sort of fling and would fizzle out as soon as it started.

He could tell the two adults were both trying , despite often having their egos clash. It was both refreshing and tiring to have two of the most "egotistical" individuals to ever step foot – and probably of this world - in the Avengers be sharing one roof. Refreshing because despite their competitive nature, they understand and level out each other's opinions; Tiring because sometimes they get too competitive that the simplest questions end up to be a full-blown scientific theory of sorts. If Peter were to have anything to say, he's happy that his father found someone to be open to again.

"You'll laugh if I say it, Doctor Strange." Peter finally says.

If Stephen is trying, then he should probably do, too.

The doctor looked up from the puzzle he was working on and clasped his hands together. "Peter, _I_ travel through dimensions and I come face to face with beings you might even call as _walking penises_. There's _nothing_ funnier than that."

Peter finds himself giving a toothy grin and giggles before leaning forward to inch a bit closer and relay today's events to his dad's close friend. "Okay, so before heading home I came across these burglars just a few streets across Mr. Delmar's Deli -which by the way you should totally try. Their sandwiches are _the_ best. Usually it would only take me ten minutes tops to stop the bad guys, but they're a bit sneakier than usual."

Stephen listened on in amusement, cracking a small smile once in a while as the teenager narrated with gusto along with waves of hands and matching facial expressions to come with it. In a way he could see how Tony would be so charmed by the boy, he had some naivete and child-like wonder that the world could use once in a while.

"I mean, the whole chase isn't really the highlight, but what came after it." Peter says after a long narrative of flips and turns he did just to catch the would-be burglars. The doctor nodded, prompting the teenager to continue with his story which Peter did after clearing his throat. "When I came back to get my stuff from the usual trash bin I put my bag and clothes in. -Don't worry, I put my stuff in a protective layer of webbing. For sanitary purposes.- I found out that it was taken by the waste management! So I had to chase after them for a few blocks and convince them that my stuff had been taken." 

"Wouldn't your stuff be crushed and compacted?"

"Well... the thing is, I kinda have to help the guys from untangling the webbing from the machine. I almost had to pay for it and I could hear Pop's voice scolding me for leaving my stuff so recklessly until I told them the webbing will dissolve in an hour and wouldn't really do damage to the gears if left alone. I don't think I have ever been handed my stuff that quickly since bullies tried to take my lunch money back in grade school and I had to fill a canister with skunk spray."  Peter trailed on thoughtfully.

At that moment Stephen gives out a short hearty laughter. He could definitely see why Peter was so loved by their peers back in HQ. "I change my mind. That one beats the walking penises."

"Really? _Walking penises?_ "

"You should see how entertaining they look like when angered." Stephen mutters as he reaches for his second cup of tea. "All red and... _veiny_. And quite gibberish with their language. A total bag of dicks as a collective if I were to describe it."

The two share a good old belly laugh, sharing a few other stories to pass time until Tony arrives back home and was greeted with the view of the two men in his life having a rather sweet and familial moment by the kitchen, only noticing his presence when he cleared his throat.

If anything, Tony has a good reason to think maybe the relationship was something worth pursuing, if not comforting.

 

 

 

It's been four months since Peter's and Stephen's first conversation in the kitchen. Don't get him wrong, he and the doctor would sometimes strike a conversation, but it's mostly niceties and small talk. Ever since that day their relationship had gotten from that of acquaintances to like that of family to the point that he and Stephen would sometimes spend hours huddled over the dining room table and helping out Peter with his studies.

Peter had tried opening up his questions about Stephen's relationship with Tony, but he would usually be answered with _"I don't knows"_ and _"We're just friends"_ that he realized that the doctor's thoughts might be filled with the same question as him, so he just leaves it be. The man doesn't need any more stress and problems from him.

For now, the sight of Stephen often walking around, taking a short nap by the couch, meditating by the terrace or sleeping by Tony's bed is something Peter had gotten used to seeing and hope to continue seeing in the future.

Today, like a usual Tutor Thursday, Stephen and Peter occupy the dining room and let themselves be buried under piles and piles of scientific theories with a few crumbs of snacks and rolled up balls of paper and plastic wrapping littered across the table and around the room. The ceiling lights illuminating them as the New York City skyline started to light up one by one as darkness crept in and the sunlight faded across the horizon.

"Doctor Strange?" Peter starts meekly, writing down a few answers for his biology homework.

"Yes, Peter?" Stephen answers back, flipping through tomes of magic he had been set into studying over the week.

"I don't mean to pry again, but are you and Pops dating?" He stops for a while, not daring to look up from his workbook and just settling to sensing how the older man might react. "You don't really have to answer-"

"I actually wish we might." Stephen says in a resigned tone as he muttered some parts of a spell he's been reading about and consulting to a few more books floating around him. "But your dad seems adamant with this staying as something casual."

Peter nodded and continued with writing down his answers. He'll be lying if he says he's not surprised that the doctor had given him an answer. He had been trying to get some semblance of a sensible answer for the past two months that he was willing to accept anything the man says. It didn't take him long to realize that he wants Stephen to be the one for Tony. He could tell they both care for each other more than anyone would, but Peter guesses that the two men are emotionally constipated like that to not even let their egos down enough to tell each other how they felt.

"D-does Pops know?" Peter asks.

"No, not really. We haven't really had the _time_ to sit down and talk... most likely bawl over our unprofessed feelings for each other." Stephen snorts, "Ironic how I'm the guardian of the Time stone and I don't have the _time_ to sit your father down to talk about this."

"Why not? You guys often go on dates, right? I mean... no _friends_ go out to have intimate dinners in five-star hotels, let alone sleep in the same bed, right?" Peter asks. For some reason he feels that this is something he would be talking about Tony some time in the near future. 

He's happy with how things are right now. He has an adoptive father who supports him every step of the way and now he has another father figure to rely on. Not to mention some sort of extended family he has with Pepper, Happy and the rest of the Avengers with him. But seeing how fragile Tony's and Stephen's relationship is with all the dancing around the bush they're doing, the happiness wouldn't really be as long-lasting as he thinks it would especially if both men feel like they're always walking on eggshells regarding their situation and the last thing he wants to happen is for Tony to go through another heartbreak.

Stephen looked thoughtful for a while and sighed, "I suppose you could say that. But what's a man to do? I admit, I have my way with women, but your dad. He's someone I can't seem to get a read on."

"Huh..." Peter thought, "I always thought you two could read each other like a book."

"His sarcasm is as thick as the Antarctic ice."

"Well, yeah, that's true. I mean if anything, I thought you would understand him most, Doctor Strange." Peter said tapping his pencil by his workbook and leaning back on the chair.

"What do you mean?"

"Uh... I mean you and Pops are alike in many ways. The both of you always kinda rely on sass as a _"defensive mechanism"_. I thought it was your way of flirting if that would be an easier thing to put it to. Kinda like how girls would hit someone they like, I guess?"

Stephen chuckled and shook his head, "I'm being given relationship advice by a fifteen year-old." He mutters.

"That's what Aunt May always says. And Hitch."

"Hitch?" Stephen blinks, looking up from the olden tome he was holding, his fingers almost tearing through the yellowed piece of Papyrus.

"Alex Hitchens. He's a relationship consultant. Well... it's a movie, actually. Played by Will Smith."

Stephen furrowed his eyebrows. "Movie references now?"

"It's logical! And really made sense. I mean, knowing how Pops would rather have conversations with robots – No, offense, Fri. -, he sure does spend a lot of time arguing with you, Doctor Strange."

The doctor spent a few moments pondering about it and sighs, "I suppose. So what are you implying? That the argument is some sort of flirtation going on between us?"

"Doctor Strange, do you hate losing?" Peter asks.

"Of course. It is because of my fear of failure that I had a hard time conjuring the magic within me-" Stephen stops and looks at the teenager now grinning toothily to his right. "What are you going on about?"

"Are you in love with Pops?"

The doctor gawked at the brown haired boy.

Never has he been asked whether he has feelings for someone such as Anthony Stark, much less to be questioned if he feels anything akin to romance with the egotistical and eccentric man. If anything, he finds Tony's personality as somewhat annoying at times especially when the two adults know that in an argument Stephen is mostly the one with logical sense. If this is something to be put a description to, their relationship is merely physical, intellectual and far from emotional.

They both lead  busy and dangerous lives with responsibilities far greater than any political leader's settled upon their shoulders. Stephen knows that, -he knows that Tony knows it, too.- but most of the time in his meditations and whenever he's stuck in boring meetings in the council, he would let his mind drift to what the mechanic might be doing and he would often look forward to seeing the cocky smirk the man would give him upon arriving back home.

The doctor finds himself smiling at the thought, and a welcome sensation of warmth spread across his chest and down to his fingers before spreading to his entire being.

"Yes." He finds himself answering long before he realized it. "I guess I am."

 

 

 

 

With Tony and Stephen now _"officially"_ dating after the both of them had a talk when the doctor had come back from his teaching stint at Kamar-Taj, things had gotten much simpler with the two adults. Stephen is now a much more frequent visitor, staying over for days that extends to weeks. Days become noisier and livelier with moments shared in the household being filled with bickering and laughter – as well as an exchange of rock and jazz music being a regular occurrence.

Of course, the teenager was happy about it, so happy that he might have shed a tear or two at how glad he was for his father. He had never seen Tony beam like that since things had fallen apart for the Avengers.

Peter walked out of Mr. Delmar's, the bell chiming as the door closed behind him. In his hands are two freshly made sandwiches wrapped and kept warm in foil. "I got them, Doc." the teen called out proudly, about to hop over the door of the black convertible parked idly a few steps over.

Stephen looked up from where he was seated, his casual clothing of a navy blue button-up over a white shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of shades making him look less of a Sorcerer Supreme and more like an actual normal rich man out to pick up his boyfriend's son from school. With a small cheeky smile gracing his face, the doctor shook his head and making Peter stop in his tracks.

"No?" Peter asked, blinking owlishly.

"No."

"But it's a convertible. People are supposed to  _hop on_."

"There's a door, Peter. Use it properly." Stephen says and chuckled when he heard Peter grumble as he wrestles with the door handle before promptly plopping down on the black leather seat. "Your father would definitely give me an earful if you put at least one bit of a footprint on these seats."

As soon as the teenager had settled down, Stephen had stepped on the gas, blazing off of Midtown Brooklyn and back home to Manhattan.

"So what is this amalgamation of unhealthy calories you've given me?" The doctor asks as the car cruised to over 100 kilometers per hour, keeping his eyes on the road as he held the sandwich oozing with a mixture of ketchup, mustard and marinara sauce Peter had unwrapped for him.

" _Mr. Delmar's signature sloppy Joes_. One of the best sandwiches to bless the world." Peter beamed with pride, his words a bit garbled by the amount of sandwich he has in his mouth.

Stephen chuckled incredulously, scoffing slightly at the thought of a sloppy sandwich being dubbed as such, but decided to give it a go. A lot of issues had to be attended by him the whole morning down by the Sanctum he had just remembered that he skipped lunch in the midst of all the mess. With a sound of surprise and pleased shock, the doctor nodded his head. "I sense a lot of bad cholesterol build up after I finish this, but I'll have to agree. This is quite good. Weird, but good."

"See? Told you so."

"Just don't let your father know we ate this in the car. He'll flip."

Peter laughed at that and nodded, focusing on finishing off his snack and the feel of the cool and crisp New York wind running through his hair and face. He stole a quick glance at the older man beside him and took notice of the way Tony's latest invention wrapped itself around Stephen's scarred hands by the way the white almost transluscent material glistened against the golden sunlight.

"What?" Stephen asked, noticing how the teenager had been looking at him with a fond smile on his face.

"Nah, nothing, _Dad_." Peter answered, shaking his head before looking back to the view of the river at his right.

It was the sorcerer's turn to look at the teen, silently thankful that his eyes are obscured by the shades he had been wearing to hide the fact that his eyes had blown wide at the sudden use of the word. He figured not to think too much of it, the boy probably didn't even notice he had called him such, but it didn't stop Stephen from feeling something close to gladness and warmth spreading through his chest.

The two rode on in silence until they arrived back to the Stark tower.

"Heya, Pops!" Peter called out from the foyer just as when the brass elevator doors slid open, consequentially stopping FRIDAY from doing her usual ritual of stripping him off of his belongings.

"Hey, kid!" Tony greeted back, turning around to face his son as he just finished a conversation with Pepper over his phone. "How was school?" he called back, leaning slightly towards the stairs, glancing over to where Peter should have been standing a while back, only to roll his eyes and shake his head when the boy was nowhere near to be seen.

"Hello, Anthony." Stephen greeted him instead, walking over to him as he took off his gloves and stuffed them in his pockets.

" Hey, you." Tony hummed back with a warm smile, savoring the feeling of the taller man planting a chaste kiss on his forehead. "You're back early. Was the drive good? How's the glove? Did it work just fine? You didn't lose a finger, did you? No time magic involved? No paradoxes made?"

Stephen chuckled at the rapid fire questions Tony gave him. "I'm home."

"I take that as a no?" Tony whispered.

"No. And don't worry, no scratches were made in your car."

The two men share a soft laugh and a short amount of time to gaze at each other's eyes.

It's only been a few weeks – much less a month -- of being "official", but every intimate moment has them both fidgeting like high schoolers much to their dismay and amusement. They shouldn't even be feeling shy about these things. They've seen each other naked for countless times, what's a few seconds of looking at each other? It's what normal couples do, right?

Stephen stepped closer, about to say something rather cheesy until Peter suddenly spoke, "Oh, right, I forgot! Thanks for picking me up from school, Dad.", the teen said, peeking from the stairs before running back upstairs, leaving both Tony and Stephen looking away from each other so suddenly.

It was a few seconds later that Tony spoke up, amusement in his voice as he gave a chuckle. "Picking him up from school? I thought you said you're just going out for a ride _around_ the neighborhood."

"I happened to end up in a Brooklyn neighborhood.", Stephen muttered under his breath.

"Uh-huh."

"It's still in fact true." Stephen whispered back, pointing his index finger towards the mechanic. "Are you aware he started calling me Dad?"

At that moment Tony had given him a small knowing look, the smile gracing his lips turning into a full smile as he noticed how Stephen is practically beaming for being called _Dad_.

"Cute. You're really cute, you know that?"

"Shut up. I'm not being cute."

"I think I'm in love."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the delayed update. A lot of things had went on for the past week and last night's events had gotten me to sleep a whole lot late than I'm used to. 
> 
> As always, please don't hesitate to leave a comment for inquiries and suggestions! A kudos would be very much appreciated! See you again in the next chapter.
> 
> Also, please don't drive too fast. Always follow the speed regulations to prevent accidents on the road. Please practice responsible driving.


End file.
